Grim. Grim, grim, grim, grim, grim. Why are reapers so grim? A question we've certainly all asked ourselves. I suppose it's because the uniform stinks and there's no dental. Been there. But hey, when you're dead, it's all under the table. Guess how many feet under?
Godhead looks like a deflated Bob Ross. There. I said it. The oldest planet in the universe, a now-wizened old hunk of rock that leads us one step closer to finding the whereabouts of Zephyr Monsoon. Popstar, part goddess, Zephyr is a magnet that attracts trouble from all over. Luckily, that attraction also pulls in 3 of the universe's best men for the job. Strong, educated, fixed? Probably not, but hey, they're not bad dudes, they're The Worst Dudes. Let's see how they got to Godhead and the bad choices made along the way, shall we? Let's.
According to Julie Andrews, a very good place to start is at the very beginning, so let's start there. 35 years ago, I was 5. Reagan was in the White House, New Coke was making its way to market, and late one moonless night, Dark Horse Comics was born. That brings us to today. Now that we're caught up, let's talk The Worst Dudes.
Love is in the air at Fanbase Press! In this magical month of romance and enchantment, the Fanbase Press Staff and Contributors decided to stop and smell the roses. Throughout the week of Valentine’s Day, members of the Fanbase Press crew will be sharing their personal love letters to the areas of geekdom they adore the most.
Batman and The Maxx. Gritty, heroic, smart. Well, Batman is smart. The new Dynamic Duo they are not, but more of a buddy cop duo who are about two days away from retirement. Partners thrust together in a situation neither expected nor consensual. When you take on the Outback, it's best to do it together and there's no one much more experienced in the Outback than The Maxx. Two heroes forced into a situation that puts their physical and mental acumen to the test. Not just the type of brain power gained by years of training and deduction, but also the type of brain power one earns on the streets. That's easy enough to say for the Batman, but The Maxx goes about it in a whole different way. Imagine a funhouse mirror. You look into one, and what do you see? A warped, distorted vision staring back at you with your own eyes. Such can be said for these two heroes, if that's what you call them. Two sides of the same coin, one created on the streets of Gotham, the other who still lives there. Batman can only save what he knows; The Maxx can only save what he perceives. It'll take both to save the Outback and protect Julie and the Jungle Queen from unseen foes.
Who tells the story of the storyteller? They themselves would weave a most fantastical tale from whence they came, foregoing truth for tantalization and admission for admiration. It's the periphery that speaks plain. An unnoticed blur among the throng. A whisper of a thought. Just another shadow cast on a wall in a castle made for a Goblin King.
Remember when you were the loser in high school for not playing D&D? All the most popular and sexually active teens were doing it? Rollin' d20s like it ain't no thang. They like to hit that with multiple crit. Naw, I'm sayin' my DMs? Remember?